


Sokovian Lullaby

by nwspaprtaxis



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Related, Episode: s01e03 Now In Color, Flashbacks, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Missing Scene, POV Wanda Maximoff, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29188080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nwspaprtaxis/pseuds/nwspaprtaxis
Summary: She is… was… a twin. Does one remain a twin when the other has gone?
Kudos: 39





	Sokovian Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** I am throughly enjoying WandaVision - far more than I'd expected I would. And I definitely was not expecting to get a dose of Pietro-related feels in the middle of an episode to the point where I'd have to pause the entire series to process them in fic form. 
> 
> This fic is a missing scene of sorts, occurring at the end of the episode.
> 
> A big thank-you to **monicawoe** for encouraging me that this was done. Also, a million thanks to the best beta ever, **tolakasa** for reading and polishing this up.

“I… Wanda….”

"No, I think you should leave," Wanda repeats as her hands tingle warm. Geraldine backs away. “Please.” there’s a red flash and a crack in the air like thunder as she flicks her fingers. “Go.” 

The clear word rings in the silent emptiness left by Geraldine's sudden departure. 

Returning her attention to the twin boys in the crib, she picks up the Sokovian lullaby from where she’d left off. 

One twin — _Billy_ — is light-colored, fair, the way Vision appears when he's out in public, but the other…. Tommy is darker. Like her. Like Pietro. Before. Before…. 

A headache pierces her temples, sudden and sharp, as if she’d taken a too-large bite of ice cream straight off the cone. The sensation passes. 

Tommy curls into Billy, nestling alongside the way they must have in her womb.

Explosions. Fire and sulfur burn her sinuses. Skinny ten-year-old arms tight around her middle as they lie under the bed, staring at the yellow _Stark Industries_ emblazoned on the bomb three feet away….

The door opens and, with the sound of her name and a question about Geraldine, the world settles in place again. 

“Oh, she left, honey. She had to rush home.”


End file.
